A heavy rain poured, washing away the last of the dried blood from the streets of Fiddler’s Green. It had started in the short time between arriving at the Mirth Tavern and Sandra, along with her followers, ushering Peregrine and company out to the western gate.

  Leon, the farmer, already had the gate lowered as they approached. He rested on his crutches, giving a warm smile as they passed by. But Peregrine no longer saw him in the same light. He’d come across as friendly and hopeful when they first met, but knowing his allegiance to Sandra, his intentions now seemed less than sincere. Was it really Leon’s fault, though? The guy didn’t know he was being manipulated. Maybe if he skipped a few meals, he’d have a change of heart.

  The trail to the castle was muddy from the slight incline sending water running downhill. Moving ahead was a chore from sliding around in the muck and wet grass with every step taken.

  As promised, Sandra and her crew kept a comfortable distance. Peregrine periodically turned to check on them skulking behind.

  “They don’t act much different than the werewolves,” Peregrine told his party members. “They’re practically foaming at the mouth at the thought of us drawing blood.”

  “Do you think they intend on helping us?” Wendell asked.

  “Fat chance,” Alissa replied. “Should be fine as long as Power Dream is in place.”

  “They said they’d be waiting in the grove near the castle.” Peregrine could see the short trees coming into view as they crested a short hill. Power Dream didn’t want to walk out with Sandra’s group and then join the heroes. They felt if Sandra saw this, that she would sick her dogs on them. Were they correct in this assumption? It was hard to tell, but it seemed like a risk not worth taking. Instead, they would meet up at the end.

  Nearing the castle, it became clear how huge it was, at least four stories. There was a turret towering on each corner of the square. Peregrine had never seen a castle in person before, so this was a sight to behold. For as grand as it was though, this structure was in rough shape.

  The tops of three of the turrets were missing, star-shaped scorch marks stained on the edges of the intact portions. Something large had blasted them apart with high heat. A bomb? Or a machine? Sections of stones had been punched out along the walls. Piles of rubble lined the ground along the outside. A dried out moat surrounded the castle with a few large trees having toppled at some point in time, covering the span.

  “Psst.”

  The three stopped next to the grove.

  “Seen anything?” Alissa asked.

  “Not a peep from those on the inside,” Truly whispered. “No ins, or outs. We’re clear to go.”

  Pat crawled closer and took a knee, her head rising above the grove by a few feet. If they were hidden before, their cover was blown now. “The plan stays the same. Take the werewolves by surprise. Clear them out fast. You three work as a group, and Power Dream works as a group. We believe The Fool is at the top of the intact turret. Combined, we can overwhelm him.”

  “Perfect,” Alissa said. “Let’s stop jawing and get this done.”

  The members of Power Dream took the lead, popping out of the grove and heading toward the dried moat. This drew many gasps and hollers from Sandra’s group. Hopefully they weren’t loud enough to alert the enemies.

  Following directly behind Power Dream, the heroes crossed over the fallen tree trunks, reaching the far side of the moat, just before the derelict castle gate.

  Peregrine trudged ahead confidently, however he was anything but. Wendell, Alissa, and he had practiced fighting as a unit by grinding for hours. But those battles had been against one opponent at a time, all weaker than them. This round, there was no telling how many enemies they would face at once. They hoped it would be no more than a couple of dozen. Power Dream’s help would be great, but the reality was that none of them had combative stats. They were those with peaceful classes, who had taken it upon themselves to fight for a cause. How much help would they really be? Would things go south in a hurry?

  The smell of iron grew strong once they’d crossed over the moat. The question was if it was from blood or the countless weapons that lay scattered across the ground. They slipped through a crack between the wall and the gate, entering hostile territory.

  No amount of rehearsal could’ve prepared any of them for what they encountered.

  If the smell of iron had been strong on the outside of the castle, it was far worse on the inside. Decay and wet dog were thrown into the mix, for a truly horrible reek.

  The courtyard was empty, except for animal carcasses scattered throughout the patches of grass and cracked stone. Then they saw the mounds on the far side.

  Everyone had their weapons at the ready. Lorn and Dorn, both Seamster classes, held scissors and thread. Slarif gripped wrenches in each hand. Pat and Truly were both armed with axes.

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  “D-does everyone see those things moving?” Wendell asked, shield shaking.

  “They’re flesh-colored,” Slarif noted.

  The mounds stirred, slowly rising to their feet.

  “They’re people,” Peregrine said. He was shocked. His System was showing werewolves for all of them. There had to be around twenty, all low level. They all looked like normal, regular humans, some wearing tattered clothes while others were naked. What the hell was going on?

  The humans all stood, staring at the visitors with confused expressions, like they had just awoken from a deep sleep and were still groggy. There were head tilts and air sniffs, but none of them made a move to attack.

  Peregrine turned to Pat. “What is this? Does your System show that they’re werewolves?”

  Pat appeared just as surprised as him. She stared for a moment before answering. “Mine shows it, too. I don’t understand.”

  Some of the people were starting to take curious steps forward, their faces looking more aggravated.

  “We need to make a decision fast,” Truly suggested.

  Then it dawned on Peregrine. “They are the werewolves. They’re only in wolf form on full moons. The rest of the time, they’re human—just like in stories. Question is, do they remember what they are?”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Alissa said, stepping ahead. “We have to kill them.”

  Wendell grabbed her by the arm. “Absolutely not. They’re humans. Don’t you have a moral compass? We can’t kill humans.”

  Alissa jerked her arm away. “YES. We can. We have to. If we don’t, come next full moon they’ll be a mile down the road slaughtering some more villagers. They’ll keep doing it for eternity. You cool with that, knowing you could’ve put an end to it?” She turned to Peregrine.

  He had no words. What was the right call? He couldn’t bring himself to kill another human. Could he?

  “She’s right,” Pat said. “I’m done living in fear of dying. This is supposed to be a realm of peace. The Morrigan has destroyed it with her wicked ways. This is the first step in righting wrongs.” She gripped her axe tighter.

  “I can’t do it,” Wendell said, his eyes pleading with Peregrine. “Please don’t make me do this.”

  Peregrine mumbled, unable to come up with a response. A strong hand gripped his shoulder. He looked up into the vertical slits of reptile eyes.

  “Go,” Slarif said. “Go to the intact turret and kill The Fool. Let us handle the werewolves. I understand your dilemma. I, too, could never kill my own kind. You don’t need to be morally compromised. Power Dream is here to assist you anyway we can.”

  Peregrine nodded.

  Without hesitation, the members of Power Dream sprinted at the confused humans.

  Slarif arrived first. His wrenches glowed with a purple energy, and his strike sent a blastwave out that collapsed their target to the ground.

  Truly arrived next, swinging her axe gracefully, which made sense given her class of Dancer. A lot of her twirls and strikes were misses, but she swung enough times that she still hit a couple of targets.

  Pat also missed a lot, but her blows did severe damage.

  Lorn and Dorn were more brutal, one jumping on shoulders and stabbing away, while the other wrapped thread around necks and choked away.

  The humans were caught off guard at first, but they quickly regrouped. Two paired up and tossed Lorn and Dorn against a wall. Others climbed on Pat’s back, holding her arms back and punching her in the gut.

  Peregrine wanted to help Power Dream, but he knew what they needed from him. The heroes were the only ones strong enough to fight The Fool. He remembered the phrase The Morrigan had told him in the graveyard. What will happen, will happen. He repeated the saying in his head as he ran past the courtyard skirmish and into the intact turret.

  Inside was tight quarters and a spiral staircase. There were no lit torches, or candles, the only light coming from the cloudy daylight seeping in through cracks and the top. They’d have a tough time going three wide. It was impossible to tell if anything waited around the curves.

  “You go first, Wendell,” Alissa said, nodding ahead.

  “Why me?” Wendell squeaked.

  “Because you have the fucking shield, that’s why. You can block an attack and we can reach over your shoulder and eradicate the threat.”

  “Oh.” Wendell positioned himself in front, with the other two crowding behind.

  They took the stairs slowly, hugging the inside wall, so Alissa or Peregrine could step around and get an attack off. The steps were wet and uneven, causing them to trip frequently. About halfway up, they encountered their first problem.

  Squish! Splat! Splook!

  “You hear that?” Peregrine asked. It sounded like something wet hopping down the steps.

  A blue ball hit Wendell’s shield and stuck to it.

  [Slime]

  [Baddie Level 1]

  It’s blue, wet, and sticky. In close quarters, physical and magical attacks will be tough to pull off without injuring your allies. Smashing it against something solid is a close second. It will try to engulf you, or your weapons, but slimes are quite small. It’s more of a nuisance than anything. DON’T INGEST.

  “Smash it with your shield, Wendell,” Peregrine shouted. He pleaded in his head that Wendell wouldn’t choose this moment to bitch out.

  Thankfully, he didn’t.

  Wendell rammed his shield, slime still attached to the front, into the far wall. The slime splattered with a loud splat, shooting sticky debris everywhere.

  Alissa smeared goop out of her eyes and spit on the ground. Peregrine expected her to burst into a tirade, but she reserved herself.

  They encountered another four slimes on the climb, all defeated by Wendell, earning him an upgrade to Level 4. If killing slimes helped boost his confidence, fantastic.

  After what felt like a long trek, they finally reached the top. The door creaked on its hinges when Wendell cracked the door open.

  The opening at the top of the turret was larger than expected, much wider than the staircase. But the physics didn’t matter, because sitting in a throne before them was The Fool.